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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24819436">A Mistake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret/pseuds/50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret'>50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Alice in Wonderland (Movies - Burton), Alice's Adventures in Wonderland &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Image, Gen, Internalized Misogyny, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mild Language, Misogyny, Team Red Queen, Trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:01:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,941</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24819436</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret/pseuds/50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A rewrite based on Jack Saint's video about how stupid the Tim Burton movie was, because I wholeheartedly agreed and was glad to see him put it into words. #TeamRedQueen</p><p>After Alice is taken in by the Red Queen as a protege, Alice discovers that much of the gossip about the Red Queen has been deliberately inflated to cast her position in doubt. Yes, the Red Queen is hard around the edges, but actually many of her negative traits have been overblown by her sister, in a desperate attempt to stir up greater conflict and restore the previous order. Alice knows what it's like to be the subject of gossip.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prelude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/635497">Tim Burton's Alice In Wonderland Was A Mistake | Jack Saint</a> by Jack Saint.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"All the best people are," Alice's father promises her. Alice tries not to worry, but it is still dark in her room and she keeps having weird dreams. The images are so bright, and vivid, that they could be colorized photographs. </p>
<hr/><p>Alice draws the pictures from her head out on the wall, but they don't come out the same. The wallpaper color isn't the same as the vibrant blue of the caterpillar or the snowy white of the rabbit. </p><p>"What are you drawing?" Her dad sits down next to her. </p><p>"The things from my dreams." Alice says. </p><p>"It looks good." </p><p>She smiles but shakes her head. "I can't get it right." </p><p>"You'll get it." Her father reassures her, with a kiss to her forehead. </p>
<hr/><p>Alice's mother is less happy about the drawings on the walls. She washes them all away and yells at Alice for ruining the house. </p><p>"She's an artist!" argues Alice's father. </p><p>"She's a hooligan!" </p><p>Alice scratches a picture of the disappearing cat into the wall while her parents argue. </p>
<hr/><p>"Alice!" Her mother says. "Sit down and be ladylike." </p><p>Alice ignores her and keeps dancing, winding through the tables at her mother's garden party. </p><p>Her mother stands up and yanks at Alice's arm, wrenching her back into her seat. Alice fights back tears. It doesn't hurt very much, but it's embarrassing, being yanked around in front of all of her mother's friends. Alice looks to her father. Her father looks sorry. Then he looks away. He doesn't meet her eyes for the rest of the day. </p>
<hr/><p>Alice is not so strange, sometimes. Sometimes, she is what her mother wants. She sits in her room and plays with her dolls and wonders what her wedding will be like someday. Daydreams about it. Her daydreams aren't "right". She doesn't want a white dress, because white is boring. Maybe something with stripes. Still, though, when Alice's mother asks what she's doing, and Alice says, "Imagining my wedding someday," Alice's mom smiles at her and for a moment everything is warm and bright like Christmas morning. </p>
<hr/><p>"What's wrong?" Alice asks her father. </p><p>His head is in his hands and he doesn't move. She touches his shoulder. </p><p>"Oh," he says eventually, "I'm just very tired." </p><p>She gives him a hug. "I love you." She whispers to him. </p><p>He pulls her up onto his knee and hugs her back. "Thank you, Alice." He says, still sounding tired, but maybe a little less miserable. "You always know what to say." </p>
<hr/><p>Alice's mother is angry from their last argument. Alice knocks on the door to her mother's room. "Alice? What is it now?" Her mother snaps. </p><p>"I just wanted to apologize." Alice says. "I didn't mean to upset you." </p><p>"It's forgotten." Alice's mother says with a tight smile. She's lying, but Alice doesn't say so. She gives her mother a hug. Her mother squeezes back, too tight, but there's no affection in it. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Plot Twist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alice has been nineteen for about three weeks now, and so far, it isn't any better than being 18. They're in a carriage, on the way to a stupid dance that's going to be exactly like every other dance. Her mother is unmoved by this. </p><p>"Must we go? I doubt they'll notice if we never arrive." </p><p>"They will notice." Alice's mother says, trying to rearrange Alice's curls and straighten her dress. "Where are your stockings?!" </p><p>"I'm against them." Alice says, slumping in her seat.</p><p>"But you're not properly dressed." </p><p>"Who's to say what is proper?" Alice says, staring at her mother. Alice knows she has an unnerving way of staring, and she isn't above using it to be a bother. "What if it was agreed that proper was wearing a codfish on your head? Would you wear it?" </p><p>"Alice." Mother's tone is warning, and Alice takes it to mean yes. If mother was supposed to wear a codfish, she would. She'd never even question it. Maybe she even knows she would wear a codfish. </p><p>"You would." Alice says. </p><p>"Please," her mother sighs, "Not today." </p><p>"Father would have laughed." Alice mutters to the window. It's a low blow, and her mother shudders with it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I didn't sleep well last night." </p><p>"Maybe you'd sleep well if you weren't so enamored with nonsense." Mother snaps. </p><p>By the time they arrive, they are, thankfully, late, and Alice is glad to have missed at least a few hours of the proceedings. She watches the guests drift across the lawn, and pictures them with codfish. </p><p>Lady Ascot is, as usual, unnaturally pale and sharp looking, as if she has been cut out of frosty ice. "At last!" she says, with false sweetness, "We thought you’d never arrive. Alice, Hamish is waiting to dance with you. Go!" She shoves Alice in the general direction of the guests and Alice stumbles forward. Behind her, she can hear Lord Ascot gloating about his purchase of the company. Alice fumes, but her mother doesn't want Alice to jump in on her behalf. She generally doesn't even want Alice to speak. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Proposal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Formal dancing is incredibly boring, but Alice follows along after Hamish. Hamish is, if possible, even paler and sharper than his mother. He's actually somewhat attractive, though they've never really gotten along. His stiff movements are like clockwork. </p><p>"Hamish," Alice sighs, "Do you ever tire of the Quadrille?" </p><p>"On the contrary," he says, with a smile "I find it invigorating." His movements become more exaggerated, a quiet joke for her benefit. Alice laughs. </p><p>"Do I amuse you?" Hamish asks, clearly knowing that he does. </p><p>Alice rises to the challenge. "Maybe not. Maybe I was just had a sudden vision all the men wearing codfish instead of tophats." </p><p>Hamish's face goes stony. "It would be best to keep your visions to yourself. When in doubt, remain silent."</p><p>Alice's smile fades too. Hamish may think he's charming, but he's just like everyone else, really. She continues the dance silently, forcing herself not to glare at him. A flock of geese flies overhead and Alice watches them go. She wishes she were a goose-</p><p>She steps into another pair of dancers. Hamish yanks her away. "Pardon us! Miss Kingsley is distracted today!" He turns to her and hisses "Where's your head?" </p><p>"I was wondering what it would be like to be a goose." She says absently. </p><p>"Why waste your time thinking about such an impossible thing?" Hamish asks, no longer hissing, he sounds almost hopeful, curious, like he's a little rabbit poking his head up from a burrow. </p><p>"Why wouldn't I?" Alice says gently, "My father said he sometimes believed in six impossible things before breakfast." She laughs at the memory. </p><p>Hamish looks pained, like he's trying to understand a difficult text. He sees his mother nearby and she waves him on impatiently. </p><p>"Meet me under the gazebo in precisely ten minutes." He commands, and strolls away. </p><p>"Hello!" Someone reaches out and taps on Alice's shoulder. She turns to see the Chattaway twins. </p><p>"We have a secret to tell you." says Faith Chattaway</p><p>"If you're telling me, then it's not much of a secret." Alice points out. She likes the Chattaways fairly well. They go skinny dipping in the pond with her sometimes. They're terrible gossips nonetheless and they tend to tell long rambling stories that Alice does her best to ignore.  </p><p>"Perhaps we shouldn't." says Fiona Chattaway. </p><p>"We decided we should!" Faith insists. "Besides, it's about you!"</p><p>"Me?"</p><p>"Hamish is going to ask for your hand!" says Fiona. </p><p>"Well now you've ruined the surprise!" says Faith. </p><p>"Have not." says Fiona. </p><p>"Have so." says Faith. </p><p>"Anyway, that's why we've all come." explains Fiona. </p><p>"This is your engagement party." says Faith, finally getting in on Fiona's conspiratorial tone.  "Hamish will ask you under the gazebo! When you say yes-" </p><p>"But I don't know if I want to marry him!" Alice interrupts, talking over Fiona. She'd feel bad about it but there's really no other way to get a word in edgewise with the Chattaways.</p><p>"Who then?" Asks Faith, looking around excitedly for the mystery lover she's probably already assigned Alice in her mind. </p><p>"You won't do better than a Lord." says Fiona. </p><p>Alice looks over to where Hamish is standing. He blows his nose, studies the contents of his handkerchief, then folds it and puts it back into his pocket. </p><p>"You're already nineteen." says Faith. "You won't be pretty forever. And you don't want to end up like lonely old aunt Imogene!" </p><p>They all look over to Aunt Imogene. The funny thing is, when Alice pictures her future, she's always liked to imagine that she would be something like Aunt Imogene. Alice has always liked her. She wears bright red makeup on her lips and cheeks and she doesn't bother with whatever new fashion is taking over at any given moment. At present, she's wearing an old yellowing dress. Alice isn't sure when the Chattaways started disliking Imogene. Not to long ago, when they were all children, Alice remembers the three of them sitting around beside her, listening to Imogene weave stories about handsome princes and giant butterflies and all manner of things. For all that they call her lonely, Imogene has never seemed anything but content. </p><p>"Anyway, you don't want to be a burden on your mother, do you?" Asks Fiona. </p><p>"Well, no but-"</p><p>"So you'll marry Hamish!" Fiona beams. "You will be as happy as I am with Lowell and your life will be perfect! It's all decided!" </p><p>Before Alice can respond, she's being whisked away by Lady Ascot. "Alice dear, shall we take a leisurely stroll through the garden? Just you and I?" </p><p>Lady Ascot pulls Alice through the garden at a brisk pace. "Do you know what I've always dreaded?"</p><p>"The decline of the aristocracy?" Alice guesses</p><p>"Ugly grandchildren. It's been my greatest fear that, well...Poor Hamish takes after his father, in my opinion, and I've worried about how to balance that off...You on the other hand, you won't know what I'm talking about would you? You're such a lovely little thing, and you're bound to produce little cherubs!"</p><p>Alice's gut churns. </p><p>It takes a minute for Alice to recognize the large white thing running across the garden. It's the rabbit! She darts after it. "You'll have to excuse me!" She calls over her shoulder. "There's something I must attend to!" </p><p>Alice winds off of the path, doubling back and around until she's not sure which direction she's going in, the rabbit disappears and Alice glances around and sees that she's come back towards the party. "Aunt Imogene!" she says, spotting the person both closest to where she is standing, and the least likely to dismiss her request. "Have you seen a rabbit in a waistcoat come this way? I was just following him!" </p><p>"How very strange..." Imogene considers for a moment "What kind of waistcoat?" </p><p>"Brocade I think. What does it matter? It's a rabbit in a waistcoat!" </p><p>"Ah!" Aunt Imogene says "The one in the brocade went that way!" She gestures with her fan. </p><p>"There were more?!" </p><p>"If you look." Imogene says with a smile. Alice realizes that there is a more than likely chance that Imogene thinks this is a game, but if she still wants to catch the rabbit, she'll have to follow along where Imogene pointed and hope for the best, regardless. </p><p>"Thank you!" Alice begins running again. </p><p>"There you are!" Hamish catches Alice by the arm. "I told you to meet me under the gazebo!" He pulls her to the gazebo. The shadows of the pillars fall over her like prison bars. A string quartet is half hidden in the bushes, bows poised like weapons. Hamish drops to his knee and an artist begins sketching the two of them. </p><p>"Alice Kingsley..." Hamish begins, looking nervous. </p><p>"Hamish-" </p><p>"What is it?" He whispers</p><p>"You have a caterpillar on your shoulder." </p><p>He jumps a little and moves to brush it away.</p><p>"Don't hurt it." Alice says. She bats his hand away and puts her own at his shoulder, letting the caterpillar crawl up onto her finger. She sets it gently onto a nearby tree leaf. </p><p>Hamish watches her with a mix of disgust and interest before glancing to his mother in the crowd. "Alice Kingsley," he says, too loudly, "will you be my wife?"</p><p>The question hangs in the air. "Well...I won't be young forever but...I want to be like...and this is happening so quickly...I think I...I..."</p><p>She see's the rabbit standing in the shadows of the gazebo, thumping it's foot against the ground. </p><p>"I need a moment." Alice says. She turns and runs, following the rabbit. </p><p>She isn't even really surprised when she falls down the rabbit hole. Terrified, sure, because none of this can possibly be real, she must be going well and truly mad, finally, but not surprised. She drifts down slowly, as if the air is liquid. She sinks slowly past surreal paintings, portraits, old maps that she can't puzzle out. She sees her shocked reflection slide by in a cracked mirror...a strange wooden mask carved with fangs...</p><p>Eventually, the slow fall starts to bore her and she grabs a book from a shelf in the wall. It's an old copy of a children's book of poems and Alice reads through "Hey Diddle Diddle" more to keep from thinking than anything else. </p><p>Eventually, her stomach growls and she looks around to see a jar of jam floating beside her. She grabs it and pries the lid open. She scoops it out in globs. It's sweet and perfect. If only jam tasted this good in the real world.</p><p>An old skull seems to stare at her and Alice focuses back on the jam. After what feels like hours, she finally lands in the round hall, with many doors. It's familiar. It's from the dreams. Is she dreaming? Alice resolves to herself that this is probably a dream and she will probably wake up. If she is lucky, maybe the proposal will even turn out to be a dream as well. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Absolem</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Alice finally lands, she is in a round room with many doors. It is only vaguely familiar. She tries the nearest door. It's locked. So is the next one. And the next. "Stay calm" she whispers to herself. Hearing the words out loud seems to give them more authority. She knocks on the latest door. "Hello? Hello! Anyone there?" </p><p>She waits, not sure she's ready for the answer. No answer comes anyway. She tries the rest of the doors. They're all locked. Beside one, there is a three-legged coffee-table, with a small key resting atop. She picks it up and tries the door. No luck. It's too small. She tries another. This one doesn't work either. Maybe it won't work on any of them. If that's the case, Alice thinks, she could try using it to pick a lock. </p><p>Eventually she brushes aside a curtain (was that there before?) and behind it, finally, is a tiny door, that doesn't even come up to her knee. She glances back at the table, and there is the familiar bottle from her dreams, labeled DRINK ME. She pulls the cork out and the smell is instantly overwhelming. Like fish left out for a day. She pinches her nose closed. If she could just <em>wake up</em>. She blinks a few times but she hasn't woken up yet. She swallows a little of the fish-liquid down, barely. It tries to gag itself up a few times, but she knows this part of the dream and she doesn't let it escape her throat.</p><p>Sure enough, the table begins to look larger. The doors soon loom above her, so high that she can't make out the tops of them.  She stumbles over her now, house-sized dress She rips the sleeve off, using the key, and some decorative ribbon and is able to tie together a funny sort of dress. It's actually very comfortable and Alice takes a minute to admire the way it swishes around her ankles before opening the door. </p><p>She enters a garden. It is half-wild and tangled and there are patches of dying thorns in places. Broken statues pose around long-dry fountains, all covered in vines and moss.</p><p>"Curiouser and curiouser" she whispers to herself, if only because this is what she always says, at this part of the dream. </p><p>"I told you she's the right Alice." It's the rabbit! He seems to be talking to a dodo bird, who is wearing eye-glasses and holding, somehow, a polished oak walking-stick. A dormouse in breeches folds its (well, it seems rude to call a mouse wearing breeches an 'it'. Maybe she? The mouse has a feminine sort of look, though Alice couldn't say how-) arms over her chest and taps her foot cynically. </p><p>Beside her are two very fat boys with their arms looped over one another's shoulders. On their collars are the names "Dee" and "Dum" respectively. </p><p>"I've been up there for weeks, evaluating Alices." The White Rabbit says, puffing his chest up a little, "I was almost <em>eaten. Can you imagine. </em>The animals <em>up there </em>go about entirely unclothed! You wouldn't believe the things I've seen!"</p><p>A group of flowers with veiny human faces lean over to peer at Alice. "She doesn't look anything like herself." says a yellow pansy. </p><p>"That's because she's the wrong Alice." says the dormouse.</p><p>"If she was," Dee says "she might be." </p><p>"But if she isn't she aint." says Dum. </p><p>"But if she were so, she would be." </p><p>"But she isn't. Nohow." </p><p>"How can I be the wrong Alice when this is <em>my</em> dream?" Alice demands, "And who are you, exactly, if I may ask." </p><p>Dee shakes her hand "I'm Tweedlde-he's-Tweedledum"</p><p>"Contariwise. I'm Tweedledum, he's Tweedledee" Tweedledum says at the same quick pace. </p><p>Tweedledee opens his mouth to say something more, but the dodo interrupts. "We should consult Absolem" </p><p>"Exactly." says an Abatina. "Absolem will know who she is." </p><p>Tweedledee and Tweedledum stand at Alice's sides and put their arms around her shoulders. </p><p>The whole crowd, except for the flowers, who are rooted in place, guides Alice into a misty forest of tall mushrooms. They soon come to a big blue caterpillar, sitting languidly on one of the shorter, wider mushrooms, and smoking a hookah. "Who are you?" </p><p>The white rabbit nudges Alice forward towards the caterpillar and then backs away without her. </p><p>"Absolem?" Alice asks. </p><p>The caterpillar sighs deeply. "<em>You're</em> not Absolem; <em>I'm</em> Absolem. Now answer the question properly."  He blows a ring of smoke in her face. </p><p> "Alice," Alice coughs. </p><p>"We shall see." Says Absolem. </p><p>"What do you mean by that?" Alice snaps, "I ought to know who I am!" </p><p>"Yes," sneers Absolem, "You ought. Stupid girl. Unroll the Oraculum." </p><p>The white rabbit scurries forward and grabs a piece of yellowed parchment from a toadstool. </p><p>"The Oraculum," He says, with something that is either awe, or very close to it, "Being a Calendrical Compendium of Underland." </p><p>Alice looks. Drawn on the long scroll is what appears to be an illustrated timeline. Every day is titled and illustrated with some event. The pictures are in deep, bold, glossy colors that don't quite seem right on such clearly weathered parchment. </p><p>"Oh! It's a calendar." She says, half to herself. </p><p>"<em>Compendium</em>," corrects Absolem. "It tells of each and every day since the beginning." </p><p>When it is clear that he has finished speaking, and the silence has hung in the air and gone stale, the rabbit nervously begins to elaborate, "Today is Griblig day, in the time of the Red Queen." He points to the illustration.</p><p>"Show her the Frabjous Day" commands Absolem, abruptly. </p><p>"Of course, of course," The rabbit pulls the scroll further ahead to look at the future, </p><p>"Frabjous being the day you slay the Jabberwocky" says Tweedledee.</p><p>"Sorry," Alice says, "Slay the- the what?" She looks anxiously at the illustration. In it is a massive thing, with huge, bat-wings and scales, a tail covered in spikes, long sharp claws. The thing is hissing at a knight, who has long blonde hair and armor. The knight holds a shining sword up to the thing, ready to swing. </p><p>"That being you there with the Vorpal Sword." Explains Tweedledee. </p><p>"No other swords can kill the Jabberwocky." Nods Tweedledum. "Nohow." </p><p>"If it ain't Vorpal, it aint dead." </p><p>Alice stares at the picture again, and realizes that it is <em>moving</em>. The knight swings her sword and the hair whips away from her face. Alice feels her stomach drop. The image is unmistakable. It's Alice, and her whole face is gritted and contorted with a bloodthirsty smile. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Advice From Absolem</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Absolem and his followers look at Alice. Alice looks back. At last, Absolem takes the hookah out of his mouth again and addresses her in a languid yet somber voice "So, is this <em>you?"</em></p><p>Alice swallows and stares back down at the picture, avoiding Absolem's eyes. "I...I <em>couldn't</em>..."</p><p>"I know you couldn't." says the dormouse. </p><p>The rabbit glances to Absolem. "Resolve this for us, Absolem. Is she the <em>right</em> Alice?" </p><p>"Not. Hardly."  Absolem blows on his hookah, generating enough brightly-coloured smoke that it obscures him entirely. </p><p>He means it as an insult, if his voice is anything to go by, but Alice takes it and holds onto it for hope. She may bear some resemblance to that girl in the picture, but Absolem, however hated, is a beloved leader. He would know if she was the "right" Alice. He would know if she was the bloodthirsty woman in the picture. She screws her eyes shut and tries to forget that image of her own face, twisted into something cruel, something that found <em>joy</em> in cruelty. It wasn't her. It couldn't be. Absolem said so. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Case</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I told you!" says the dormouse.</p><p>"Oh dear!" the rabbit says. </p><p>"I said so." says Tweedledum glumly. </p><p>"No, I said so." argues Tweedledee</p><p>"Contrariwise, you said she might be."</p><p>"No! You said she would be if she was." </p><p>A poppy with dark, shining eyes leans in from behind a mushroom. "Little imposter! Pretending to be Alice! She should be ashamed!" </p><p>The rabbit turns to Alice, sniffling, "I was so certain of you." </p><p>They all glare at her, as if this is somehow her fault. </p><p>"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be the wrong Alice, I -Wait! This is my dream! I'm going to wake up now, and you'll all disappear." She closes her eyes and pinches her arm. When she opens her eyes, the little crowd is still there. "That's curious." She pinches herself again. They just look at her. "Pinching usually does the trick." </p><p>The dormouse pulls a long, sharp, hat pin from her scabbard. "I could stick you if that would help." </p><p>"It might actually. Thank you." </p><p>"My pleasure." The dormouse enthusiastically drives the pin into Alice's ankle. Alice yelps but it is lost in the sound of a thunderous roar and a huge monster crashes through the surrounding mushrooms.</p><p>"Bandersnatch!" Screams Tweedledee, pointing at it. It has a huge, furry body, with a head like a rabid bulldog. Drool oozes from its flat muzzle. Its fur is matted and darkened. Its teeth are broken, stained, and jagged. The smell nearly overwhelms Alice for a moment before she scatters with everyone else. A net flies over the sky and comes down on her. Alice struggles against it. A tall man, wearing a crest of a red heart in flames stands over her. Around them, knights round up the fleeing animals. A pig, and a flamingo, who alice didn't even notice before are caught by their legs and tossed into a red wagon. The dodo darts away between the mushroom stalks. I knight grabs the white rabbit by his foot and holds him up at eye level. </p><p>"Unhand me!" Demands the rabbit. "I do not enjoy being-" but he is tossed into the caged wagon with the others, and his voice is cut off in a yelp. </p><p>Alice manages to wriggle out of the net and runs without looking back. Behind her, she can smell the monster gaining on her. She halts. "It's only a dream. Nothing can hurt me." She whispers to herself. She turns to face it.</p><p>The dormouse watches from behind a tall mushroom. "What is she doing?" </p><p>The monster's drooling mouth opens, wider than seems possible. </p><p>"Can't hurt me...can't hurt me." She whispers again. </p><p>The dormouse crawls up the monsters back. "Run you great lug!" She yells to Alice, as she drives the hatpin into the monster's eye. It bellows. She tries to pull the hatpin out, and the whole eye comes with it. The monster howls and whips around, raking Alice's arm with its long claws. Alice stumbles back. She <em>runs</em>. </p><p>The man in the suit of arms glowers after Alice, but she is quickly lost in the mushrooms. </p><hr/><p>"Isolovic Stayne..." The Red Queen grins at him "you <em>knave</em>. Where have you been lurking!" She reaches out as if to touch him but thinks better of it and stops halfway. He takes her hand and kisses it, just barely. She sighs. </p><p>"Majesty, I have found the Oraculum." He lays it on a table and rolls it out. </p><p>"That?" The Red Queen asks, getting up to examine it. "It looks so ordinary for an oracle." </p><p>"Look here," Isolovic insists, "On the Frabjous Day." He points to the illustration. </p><p>"I'd know that tangled mess of hair anywhere...Is it Alice?" The Queen asks sharply. </p><p>"I believe it is." </p><p>"What is she doing to my Jabberwocky?" The Queen asks, face blank. </p><p>"She appears to be...slaying it." Isolovic admits. </p><p>"She <em>killed</em> my Jabberbabywocky?!" </p><p>"Not yet! Not yet." Isolovic rests his hand on the Queen's shoulder. "But it will happen if we don't stop her." </p><p>"Find Alice, Stayne. Find her!" </p><p>"I will bring her head and lay it at your feet." Stayne promises. </p><p>"...Be careful." </p><hr/><p>Eventually, Alice has to stop running to look at the gashes on her arm. </p><p>"Looks like you ran afoul of something with wicked claws." The disembodied head of a cat hovers midair. </p><p>"I see I'm still dreaming." Alice remarks. </p><p>"What did that to you?" </p><p>Alice describes the thing disjointedly until the cat interrupts her: "The bandersnatch? I'd better have a look." The cat disappears and then reappears as a whole cat. He inspects the wound closely and leans in to lick it. </p><p>"What are you doing?" </p><hr/><p>The tea-set on the table, where the cat takes her, is a haphazard mix of cracked pots and chipped cups, very few of which, if any, match. The tablecloth is stained and threadbare, the chairs lopsided, many standing on only three legs, or, in one case Alice notices, somehow balanced on only one. In one of them slumps a pale, morose man, in gloomy clothes staring into space. On his head rests a ragged and scorched top hat. A march hair twitches in another seat. On the table sits the dormouse, wearing the Bandersnatch eye at her waist. "What?" Startles the hare, ears twitching, "Who's there?"</p><p>The cat strolls in with Alice. At the sight of her, the man sits bolt upright. He brightens, as do his clothes. Transfixed, he marches towards her across the top of the table. "Your hair wants cutting." He says, leaning in close. "...It's you." </p><p>"No, it's not." The Dormouse sighs. "McTwisp brought us the wrong Alice." </p><p>"IT'S ABSOLUTElY ALICE." The man takes her hand and pulls her back over the table-top. "YOU'RE  ABSOLUTELY ALICE! I'D KNOW YOU ANYWHERE. I'd know her anywhere!"</p><p>She tries not to step on any teacups. He plunks her down in a chair next to his. "Well as you can see, we're still having tea. It's all because I was obliged to KILL TIME waiting for your return. You're terribly late you know...naughty. Well, anyway, TIME BECAME QUITE OFFENDEd and had to be STOPPED altogether. NOT A TICK ever since!" </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. 10/6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?" Asks the man. </p><p>Alice opens her mouth to answer but before she can, the man, a hare, seated in a nearby chair, and the dormouse clap their hands over their heads "Down with the bloody big-head!" </p><p>"Sorry?" </p><p>"It's quite alright, dear." says the man. </p><p>"It's a secret language. Best to learn by immersion." The dormouse tells her in a stage-whisper. </p><p>"Come, come. We simply must commence." says the man, "with the slaying and such." He begins clapping and stomping his foot "Therefore it's high time for Time to</p><p>forgive and forget. Or forget and </p><p>forgive, whichever comes first. Or, is </p><p>in any case, most convenient. I’m </p><p>waiting." </p><p>The hare taps his watch, listens to it, dips it into his tea cup, listens again. "It's ticking again!" </p><p>The cat puts his tea cup down with disgust. "All this talk of blood and slaying has put me off my tea." </p><p>"And you?" The man turns to Alice. "How is your tea?" </p><p>Alice looks around, trying to determine which of the cluttered cups are supposed to be hers and ends up just nodding politely. "It's good." </p><p>"Well it's not <em>my fault</em> my tea is worse than hers!" The cat says.</p><p>"Sure." The man smiles at the cat unconvincingly. There is a moment of tense silence before he breaks out into an unintelligible stream of infuriated gibberish, accidentally shoving Alice out of her chair with a sweeping gesture of his hands. </p><p>"-Shukem juggling sluking ur-pals! Bar lom muck egg brimni!"</p><p>"Hatter!" The dormouse yells. </p><p>The hatter jerks and shuts up. "Thank you. I'm fine." </p><p>"What's wrong with you, Tarrant? You" The cat sighs "<em>used</em> to be the life of the party." </p><p>Tarrant sighs and grabs Alice by the arm. "Now that time's back on, they'll be after us. Or rather they have been after us."  He shoves a bottle into Alice's mouth and she feels herself shrinking again until she fits in the palm of his hand. He drops on top of his head, then puts the hat back on, throwing a bit of her old dress in after her. Alice is getting used to tying her own makeshift togas by now, almost. The whole space lurches as Tarrant, presumeably, stands and begins walking. Alice grabs onto his hair for stability. </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Club</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"But you haven’t had your tea!" The Hare calls after them. </p><p>Alice crawls out from under the hat and rests on the brim as the Hatter strides through the woods. </p><p>"I’m not slaying anything, you know." Alice figures she should give him fair warning.  "I don’t slay. So put it out of your m-mind."</p><p>Tarrant plucks her off the brim of his hat and sets her on a stump, all without breaking his pace.</p><p>"Wait! You can't leave me here!" Alice calls after him. </p><p>Tarrant turns back to her and stares down at the stump. "You're not the same as you were before," he accuses, "You were much more...muchier...You've lost your muchness." </p><p>"My muchness?"</p><p>He prods her in the stomach with his finger. "In there. Something's missing." </p><p>"Fine. Fine. I'll be your hero. Just don't leave me here." </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Club (Pt. II)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tarrant hesitates before picking her up again and putting her back on his hat. "We should get going then." He says. "When you put everything back the way it was, I'll be the Royal Hatter again! It's a very prestigious position and-" he jolts, and Alice nearly falls off of the hat. "Red Knights!" </p><p>A bloodhound bays from somewhere in the trees. The hatter puts Alice into his breast-pocket and runs. He dodges between the trees, towards the edge of the woods but there's a flash of red somewhere close. He turns. A Red Knight steps out. He pivots the other way. Another Red Knight. They're surrounded.</p><p>As they close in, the hatter pulls Alice up from his pocket and onto the brim of his hat once again. "Go south to the Grampas Bluffs. The White Queen's castle is just beyond. Hold tight." And Alice barely has time to slip behind the sash on the hat before the Hatter flings it into the air, up up up, it catches the wind, and Alice watches as the Knights crowd in on the hatter, leaving her unnoticed. </p><p>"DOWN WITH THE BLOODY RED QUEEN!" She hears him yell. </p><p>The hat lands in soft grass just beyond the forest. Ahead of Alice there are gently rolling hills. It's getting darker and stranger out here. She slips under the brim of the hat and sleeps. </p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Let's Take A Break</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alice awakens to the sound of something large sniffing outside of the hat. She sits up as the hat flips over, leaving her blinking in the sunlight. It takes her a second to process what she's seeing. It's a bloodhound. One of the Queen's bloodhounds. </p><p>She shouldn't be surprised by now when he speaks. "Would your name be 'Alice' by any chance?" </p><p>Maybe it's the shock, maybe she's just tired of running, but she tells the truth, for what little good it will do. "Yes. But I'm not that one." </p><p>"The hatter would not have given himself up for just any Alice." </p><p>"Where did you take him?"</p><p>She stares up into the bloodhounds eyes. They show no remorse. "To the Red Queen's Castle at Salazun Grum."</p><p>"And are you going to take me there too?"</p><p>"No. I am here for the White Queen this time. My pups are...under her protection. So you are under mine. I will bring you back to the White Queen's castle. You'll be safe there." </p><p>Alice stands up and wipes the dirt off of her hands and onto her makeshift dress. "No, thank you. If everyone is going to keep getting themselves captured on my account, I think I had better go rescue them." </p><p>"The Frabjous Day is almost upon us. You must prepare to meet the Jabberwocky." </p><p>"I've had quite enough! Since the moment I fell down the rabbit hole, I've been told what I must do and who I must be. I've been shrunk, stretched, scratched and stuffed into a teapot. I've been accused of being Alice and of not being Alice. But this is<em> my dream</em>! I'll decide how it goes from here." </p><p>"If you diverge from the path..."</p><p>"I make the path!" </p><p>The bloodhound sighs and lies down at her feet. She climbs up his long ear and onto his shoulders. </p><p>"Take me to Salazun Grum," Alice commands. "And don't forget the hat." </p><p>The bloodhound picks up the hat in his teeth and runs. Alice hangs onto his spiked collar to keep her seat. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Follow Your Own Path</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>And here we mark our last moments running alongside the canon plotline.</p>
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    <p>The bloodhound takes Alice as far as the moat, floating with rotting severed heads from the old regime, but he lets her cross on her own, jumping from corpse to corpse. He may have brought her here, but at least he can say that she took those final steps on her own. It isn't much of an excuse, but it's better than nothing at all. When he returns to the White Queen's palace, his tail quivers between his legs. </p><p>"What news, Bayard?"</p><p>"Alice has returned to Underland, your majesty." </p><p>A smile lights up the Queen's soft, lovely face. "Where is she now?" </p><p>"In Salazun Grum. Please forgive me, your majesty, I allowed her to divert from her destined path."</p><p>The White Queen frowns slightly, resting her chin in her hand. Bayard waits in perfect silence. "That is no problem at all." The Queen answers after a long wait. "That is exactly where she will find the Vorpal Sword! We have our champion! Good dog! Good boy!"</p><p>Exhausted and relieved, he slumps to the ground and the queen pets his ears and talks in a cooing baby-talk voice. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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